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‘You mean I should give myself a dressingdown? Very well. Maggot, dealing him a buffet that sent him reeling several yards backwards. Wanton!… This, then, was what her father had meant. “I think,” he said, “that some one ought to warn her. The birds were singing blithely amid the trees,—the lowing of the cows resounded from the yard,—a delicious perfume from the garden was wafted through the open window,—at a distance, the church-bells of Willesden were heard tolling for evening service. Captain Kneebone! we must trouble you to accompany us. Lady Trafford uttered a prolonged scream, and fainted.
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